


love, anon

by Bidawee



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Creepy, Dark, Filming, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 20:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bidawee/pseuds/Bidawee
Summary: you dont know me, but i know you. and i want to know you better.





	love, anon

**Author's Note:**

> big thanks to ells for proofing this, love ya! theres still a lot of mistakes but im hot and tired so feel free to pick them apart and i will go back tomorrow, as always, love reading your comments!

dear aus,

you dont know me, but i know you. and i want to know you better. i hope we can get to know each other better over the coming weeks. please stay in touch

love,

anon

 

 **Images are not displayed.** Display images below

dear aus,

nala is such a cute dog and you have so many pictures of her! if youre looking for a new place to take her toronto just opened up a new park. ill send the direction. you two have fun.

love,

anon

**VIEW IN GOOGLE MAPS**

_You requested this link using "send to device" in Google Maps_

 

dear aus,

are you busy on tuesday? because i know cineplex does discount movie sessions and you havent seen the new live action lion king yet. i think youd like it (nala is a dead giveaway). your such a sweet guy i bet you cry during mufasas death. wish i could be there to see it

love,

anon

 

Willy’s first response was to laugh at the oncoming submissions, poking at the screen of the computer until Auston wanted to smash the monitor over his head.

“Someone’s got a secret admirer,” Willy sang. “And right near Valentines too, what a treat. I know of a good restaurant you two can go to.” Auston crumpled the piece of paper that he’d been holding in his right hand, the tension and stress getting to him all too easily.

“You don’t understand, this is ridiculous. And it’s not just little snippets here and there, she has my address and everything. Last week, she sent me an email with a picture of me walking up the driveway. Why the fuck would anyone have access to that?” The idea sent him spinning.

He whipped around, staring at Willy accusingly. “Did you do this?” Only then, did Willy let the smile slip off his face, confusion imminent.

Willy had the audacity to look shocked, but, to his credit, it looked authentic. As authentic as a Nylander could be with their very punchable and pudgy faces. Pretending-to-be-concerned Willy and legitimately concerned Willy could not be mistaken for each other--he was particularly terrible at lying.

Auston’s hands raked through his hair, the urge to trash his desk overpowering.

“You didn’t lead on a girl or something stupid right?”

“No one. No offices romances either. Out of the blue she appeared and at first she was relatively nice. Little compliments that didn’t mean much. I thought it was chainmail or spam but no. It just kept escalating.”

“And you never replied?”

Auston shook his head. “Never.”

“Want me to call IT and have a guy look at it?”

“This computer isn’t hooked up to remote access yet, I don’t think they can, and why should they? It doesn’t concern work.”

Willy kicked open a desk cabinet, retrieving a pad of lined paper and ripping a sheet free. He steals one of Auston’s ballpoint pens and scribbled something illegible on the front, sprawled over lines without any consistency.

“If it concerns your performance, it will concern your work. I know a few friends that would like to help, no biggie. But you can’t let this get worse than it already is.” Willy was making the call before Auston could even open his mouth.

Laying claim to his fate, he sat back in his chair and scrolled through his camera roll, getting another look at Nala and document when her next veterinarian appointment was. About five minutes later the west corridor's door swung open with a click from the other side, a young man that looked far too energetic for nine in the morning. He must’ve chugged about five cups of coffee to keep the fake-plastered grin on his face.

“Heya! Is this where Auston is?” he spoke, voice not befitting his features. Something about him was oddly familiar, but Auston hadn’t yet consumed enough caffeine to undergo a background check and try to figure it out. He curled his hands with a come hither motion, beckoning him inside the office space.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said, for more emphasis. That familiar urge bit into him again, and he squinted.

“Oh, you’re um,” Auston cupped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t tell me, I know this.”

“Mitch,” he laughed. “Mitch Marner from IT. We met at a work convention last week I think. Health and Safety Week? I think you split your drink on me.”

Heat rushed to Auston’s ears, the recollection of events all too clear. Behind him, Willy snorted.

“That was it. Sorry about that.” Mitch looked perfectly happy letting him revel in his embarrassment, which he assumed was just for his treatment.

“You apologized enough that day, no worries. So Auston, how can I help you?”

“I need two things. One, uh, we’ve been having a few problems with device drivers and this computer. I need the printer driver updated. And--well, okay, this may sound like a stupid question but--“

“There are no stupid questions when it comes to IT.” Mitch smiled wider.

“--but it’s a bit personal.”

Mitch put on a falsetto-serious expression. “Well Mr. Matthews, I’m afraid if you want me to download Solitaire on your computer that’s against company policy.”

Auston barked out a laugh, it being contagious enough for Mitch to join in. It was short-lasting; his secret admirer's advances made quick work of any happiness he could muster. 

“Not that. It’s--well, emails. Anonymous emails. They’re being sent to my work and home address and I can’t stop them. Normally I wouldn’t care but they’re getting between me and my work.”

Mitch plopped down in a chair close by, scooting close enough on the carpeted floors to get a good look at his computer’s hard drive.

“Well, let’s see what I can do. If it’s spam, I can likely program your inbox to send it immediately to trash and flag any new messages.”

Auston deflated, air pushed out of his lungs. “That would be great.”

Mitch waved him off, sliding under the desk, legs dangling out like an impromptu mechanic. The screen went black, then reverted to the advanced boot options which brought up the computer repairs. Mitch slid back up and used the keyboard to select _safe mode with command_ prompt assuming the lead.

Auston felt compelled by the situation to say something, though it was hard to find the right words to placate him with.

“It’s nothing big, just want the computer to cooperate and help me out, y’know?” Auston said, hoping he didn’t come off as an annoyance.

“Oh yeah, these things are prehistoric. I got it though. You’ll have to give me a couple of minutes though.”

Auston’s shoulders dipped back, Willy pushing him away slightly to give Mitch more room to work with.

“I don’t mind.”

The screen flashed again, and he was at his desktop, the foundation’s logo and name now displayed in a chilling black. Mitch’s head popped back up, hair tousled as he clicked on the desktop icons and began pulling up file extensions and code that Auston couldn’t hope to understand.

“So Auston, you live in Toronto long?” Mitch asked, eyes still glued to the screen.

It was something out of left field, a pitch he’d not been expected, so he gaped on for a few seconds before he could answer. “Only two years now.”

“Sounds real different from America. Is it true that people actually sleep with rifles under their heads at night?”

Auston cast a glance at Willy, who sniggered. The all-too-typical cliche was becoming tiresome to dispel. “I mean, some people probably did, but I didn’t.”

Mitch escaped to the internet browser, going through to download the specific driver for the foundation’s main printer.

It was hard to carry a conversation because he barely knew the guy and Mitch was too focused on his work to say anything thought-provoking. But to his credit, he did the job and did it well. Within minutes, the computer was up and running and Mitch was running the command to print a blank sheet of paper as a test.

“Auston, would you be a dear and see if it went through well enough?” he said, which Auston obliged. The printer was only a few paces away, by the motivational cat posters and letters from children the hospital they worked for had helped over the years.

As promised, the sheet was blank and crisp, with no corners folded. He shot Mitch and Willy a thumbs up, to which Mitch responded with his own victory hoot. Auston stocked the paper back in the supply pile and returned to his desk, tapping the paperwork beside his keyboard twice.

“Hey, thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it, I get paid to do this.” He took Auston’s hand and shook it. “What about your other problem? Emails?”

“Oh those,” he hummed. “They’re nothing. Thanks, though.”

“Well, if they bother you again, just give me a call.”

 

You're friends on Facebook

Studies at The University of Arizona

**WED 8:21 PM**

You are now connected on Messenger.

 

**lexi**

hi!

its me

anon

i missed youuu

youre not returning my emails so i thought you would talk to me here

your sisters are so cute

 

**you**

alex if this is you, it’s not funny

 

**lexi**

its anon dummy.

you should probably not leave your shirt unbuttoned like you did today

its hard not to be distracted

you might get unwanted attention

 

You can’t reply to this conversation.  Learn More 

 

Unknown

 **Text Message** **  
** **Today** : 5:58 PM

hey aus ♥

if we’re going to have a relationship i think u need to stop talking to the ladies at the bar

dont want something undesirable to happen to them

a smear campaign or something

LEAVE ME ALONE

WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT

LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

you talked to me again!!

hi aus!!!

ur a smart guy so i know youll play nice

and they’ll be grateful in the long run

I will call the cops

And what will they do?

Your little friend is right.

You’re gonna tell on me because I’m cyberbullying you?

This is STALKING.

They could put you in jail for this.

well they need someone to convict

when u find me, let me know

ill wear my best shirt

 

dear aus,

is that all i am? an annoyance? im upset but im not giving up. never giving up. i know you have that event with the leafs and sickkids coming up so ill forgive you for not spending time with me.

you've been naughty though. you wouldnt want your fam to know about your affair with ms jessica would you? yeah i know and while im upset you didnt say yourself for me it just means i need to work harder

love,

anon

 

He couldn't hold his pen between his thumb and pointer finger, let alone process the information displayed his monitor with dates and times for appointments and unapproved patients' hospital schedules. Customer feedback and donation pickings for fundraisers took a backseat to the dotted text and subsequent text that decorated his phone, all too familiar (which was honestly becoming sad). Knowing that this behaviour was becoming a normal part of the schedule alongside the morning commute and grocery shopping made his teeth clench. Another letter from his admirer, again, all too personal.

He'd already used up his morning break on a coffee run, but lunch was two hours away and that was like a century in length. Even then, thirty minutes would be too little a time to help him recuperate from his harasser's efforts and put himself in a square state of mind to continue working. Another option reared his head, and a look down the hall at his boss' closed door and shed windows told him that his departure wouldn't go noticed long enough for him to slip out and find help elsewhere.

The carpeted floors led him down the production department and into web development, and there, nestled in the stomach of the beast, was the IT department and their string of tiny offices. Some took to the cubicles like fish to water, but others had ducked into the doors giving them the much-needed privacy and peace and quiet that Auston would give up a week's paycheque for. One hand thumbing at his phone, he hesitantly knocked at the wood of the door before a peppy little "come in" chimed aloud, strong enough for reception to likely hear.

It was relatively normal inside, Mitch at his desk drinking from bottled water with one eye on his dual monitor setup. He heckled at Auston with a flurry of hand motions until he stepped inside and closed the door behind him with the best interests of the people outside in mind. Mitch motioned at the chair in front of the desk and he sat, almost losing his hands as Mitch pushed his keyboard up to make more room in front of himself.

"Hiya!" he greeted, putting his water bottle down to stop obscuring his view. "Long time no see stranger; what can I do for you? Do you have my extension? You can always call my cell if you need me to do something remotely and the line is down."

Auston gulped as the influx of information shot at him like party streamers. "It's not that, but thank you, and yeah, I have it. I came to ask for another personal favour, if I'm not catching you at a bad time."

Mitch shook his head back and forth, the glistening gold chain circling his neck shimmering as the light from the open window behind him caught it. Auston placed his phone face down on the dark mahogany desk.

"That person I told you about earlier. The emails? They're phoning me now. Phoning and texting. I block one number and two more pop up. They don't say anything either; just breathe.” He shuddered, chills nipping at his spine.

Mitch inched closer and took the phone from his hands, not bothering to turn it on. His dainty little fingers clacked against the hard plastic of the case like a metronome. The other man's blown out pupils appeared to eat up every detail thrown their way through the visual feed when in reality, he was staring down a pixel-art recreation of the Blue Jays logo.

“Multiple calls, eh? And I’m guessing it’s not just limited to that either. Facebook messenger?” his voice ricked, like a crank-powered radio.

"Yeah." Auston stood up, both hands on the desk and floppy hair draped over his eyes. “No names, no usernames, nothing. Zero. No channel for negotiation or even reply.” He looked up to garner Mitch’s reaction.

Mitch looked up from under his eyelashes. “You can reply, if it’s anonymous. You just won’t be able to trace the source,” he said, plainly.

“So? Why would I reply? Most websites I checked said not to.”

“I’m not saying you should, but I can tell you what’s happening. Essentially, she, or he, I’m just assuming it’s a woman, is using an encryption service which is likely a software called Tor." Mitch put the case down and replaced it with a smooth red stressball he flung from hand to hand. "It bounces her IP address off of several different location pings aaaaall around the world so her true location remains anonymous.”

“Yeah about that: I’ll be honest, I thought Willy, my co-worker was doing this at first.”

“Well there’s nothing saying it can’t be a man. Gender doesn’t really matter so long as they know their computer stuff and have access to your emails or credentials. That’s all it takes. Piss off anybody lately?”

“Not that I know,” Auston said. “Let’s get back on topic; what about the email? There’s got to be a sender.” Auston pointed at the black slate where there should have been a recipient and sender; where there was nothing but a white rectangle masking her tracks.

“There doesn’t have to be. If she’s got enough backing in web security and programming she can access deep websites like Mixmaster and then use a privatized website like Anonymouse to send it through PGP code.” He looked up. “I know a lot of it this doesn’t make sense to you but long story short; it’s untraceable for now. They must really want to talk to you to go this far.”

Auston cleared his throat, leaning forward. “Please, is there anything else I can do?”

“Beyond changing your email? Normally I would advise you back up your computer and look for better home security if you live by yourself--just in case. Nala can guard your front door if you don’t want unknown packages showing up on your doorstep.” Something twinged inside of Auston; something that didn’t sit right.

“Wait, Nala?” Auston questioned. “How do you know about Nala?” Mitch looked up, wide-eyed.

“She’s your phone and computer background?” he said, but it came off as more of a question. When Auston didn’t reply, Mitch wordlessly asked for his phone and then pressed the home button to reveal Nala in all her glory, mildly obese and asleep in her own kibble.

“See? Nala. But I digress, I can also show you how to go in and block specific keywords. If they use a common phrase, it will sort it into your trash.”

“Okay. Okay. I’ll do that. Are you free for lunch?”

Mitch straightened almost instantaneously, fingers primed on the keyboard as the whiplash from tearing his pupils from the monitor sent him visibly reeling.

“What?”

Auston cleared his throat, crossing his right leg over his left. “Like, can I come here and we work on it together? I would probably have to go out and grab lunch but then we could work back from there.” One hand wiped down his face, eyelids pulling down as a direct result of many sleepless nights. Mitch slumped over, eyes downcast.

“I’m always free. Swing by whenever and I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you.” Head bobbing, he shook Mitch’s hand in gratitude and took his leave, giving himself the opportunity to check his messages and pray to God there wouldn’t be a new number glistening at the front of his notifications to rain on his parade.

 

dear aus,

sometimes i go through your contact lists, if only to see what youve been up to since we last spoke. i saw last week that you were eating at wendys and personally, the food there is a bit hard on the stomach with all the grease but I can salvage my comfort for a few fries. when this is all over, id like to go out for a bite to eat with you. maybe thai express? you could stand to be healthier. it feels like we would work amazing together with our many shared interests. ur a big gaming nerd and i like the jays too.

love,

anon

 

dear aus,

i made sure no one else could have you because no one else deserves you. i hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday

love,

anon

 

dear aus

you try so hard not to be affected by me, its kind of cute. its mutual you know. im happy the window lets me look

love,

anon

auston_work.jpeg

 

dear aus,

check facebook.

you have too many friends so i got rid of some. the little tribute i put on your wall was just a bonus i promise. you might want to look over your privacy settings because i found a few of your high school friends acting up. you're lucky to have me

love,

anon

 

The tightrope of emotions he was walking was wearing thin, a well-worked effort by his personally-acclaimed number one fan and their tendency to call at the most inopportune time. Now, even the receptionist was giving him calls from lines that didn’t exist, the heavy gusts of air the anthem of a greater act of malice bordering on obsession.

In the end, the physical miscarriages of the stalker’s adoration drove him over the edge and into the arms of the Nylanders, who opened their house to keep him upon reading the detailed ramblings. They’d moved him into the guest bedroom on one condition: that he bring his case to the police. The statement should have been burdened with reassurance, but the aftertaste was but a pit of dread, eating away at his faith. A piece of himself yearned to slip his mobile out of his back pocket and press his thumb to the microphone to assert some control, praying the stalker didn’t listen in in the meantime and create more of a personal vendetta against his friends.

He rode the transit to the closest police station, large in part because of the email that had plainly stated his license plate with an image of his vehicle attached. In his right hand, a stalk of printer documents all touching on the emails, tweets, and alerts smeared up on his personal life, clambering for attention.

The investigator that had sat with him gave them a once-over, humming and ah-ing as he looked over the barbed words hiding pricklier thorns. The resolution he’d hoped for, something positive that would be considered a useful application of his time, was wiped clean from the slate as the man’s stocky features locked onto him, the aloof expression almost corrosive.

“It’s anonymous,” the investigator said, voice guarded with a false pretence of assertion. “Unless we have a name, location, and witnesses, there’s nothing we can do since no identity has been confirmed.”

“Surely you can contact someone up there to do something about it,” he said, frantic.

“Sites like Facebook won’t give out personal information on its users without valid cause, concern, or evidence of a felony being committed.”

“But it _is_ valid and this is a felony,” he complained, voice quivering with repeated pulses of unease. The man didn’t look impressed.

“Maybe you should think about taking a break from social media and tell your siblings to change their passwords to their accounts.” Like _Auston_ was the problem.

“I’m sorry,” the agent added. “But if you don’t have substantial evidence, we can’t prosecute them. There’s no proof they even reside in Canada.” Auston couldn’t listen to any more of his excuses, immediately taking his leave without collecting the documents. He figured they’d be a nice souvenir of his visit, something to remember him by. If only he had the will to impose on them what he was facing, then maybe they’d finally understand.

 

dear aus,

i noticed you sleep on your left side now away from the window. is that because of me? im actually bad at climbing windows so id worry more about the front door. or the router. or not, because i like the pics i get and its nice to wake up to in the morning. but if youre not sleeping then......maybe cut out with your ignoring stunt because it’s not funny anymore. You think downloading an antivirus will help you? you don’t know how many holes i can squeeze though so dont test me

love,

anon

austonsleeping.jpeg

austonsleeping2.jpeg

austonsleeping3.jpeg

 

dear aus,

i saw you on the television today. didnt even need to go through your phone. you looked cute. scratch that. absolutely breathtaking. im remaining chaste for now but it takes a lot of restraint

i like the new hairstyle you got too. tipped your stylist off for you

i DONT like how touchy feely the goalie was with you and the kids for the shoot with sickkids. you tell him to back off. i have dirt on you that im sure many of your patients wouldnt want to see.

because youll be such a good father to our kids--our kids--no one else needs to get involved.

love,

anon

auston_nudes1.jpeg

auston_nudes2.jpeg

auston_bed.mp4

 

dear aus,

do you know what i’m really worried about? me somehow moving on.

with most people i would say its almost certain but when you fight back i fall in love more. the next move is up to you.

love,

anon

 

dear aus,

this is never going to end, really. your a catch, baby

love,

anon

 

dear aus,

i got your part time hockey schedule. you play on tuesdays right? maybe ill stop by and cheer you on. i’ve heard you’re great. id love to see nala again. maybe i can dogsit

love,

anon

 

He was on the verge of tears the next morning, having difficulty coping with the inevitable scare from the meet-up and the sense of doom it helped excite. Knowing that even with the papers laid out bare, he still couldn’t build a case was more than disheartening: it was mad. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen, but the loosey-goosey way of dictating who could say what on the internet and the idea of profile pictures and usernames hiding people made it all too easy. He could only sit and wait for something to change--new details to be discovered, an enemy that made themselves known, something. He didn’t think he could handle another phone call with his mother begging for the juicy details on a boyfriend he supposedly had, according to his Facebook status and vague wall posts that he’d tried to delete.

The damage was done. Some of the more conservative bosses would talk behind his back. Sure, his close friends knew he really only swung one way, but who was stopping random strangers? The doctored pictures, the pictures of him taken from places that he knew people get into; too much, it was all too much.

It was drastically early, crack of dawn type of early, and being at home meant sharing a living space with an online persona, so Auston opted for the more pleasant option of leaving to go to work early. His mind was in a traffic jam of his own, which meant he was running on muscle memory and basic coordination to weave in and out of the office until he reached his desk, where, on the face beside his laptop, there was a muffin.

Not just any muffin, but a freshly baked out-of-the-oven kind of muffin where the wafting smell of blueberry and heat was overpowering and rapidly sucked into his nostrils. Without permission, he started to salivate, remembering he’d forgotten to eat breakfast. While it was tempting to walk over and take a chunk out of the top, what hooked his attention more was the yellow sticky-note attached to the base of the liner.

His stomach dropped out. It could be anybody. It could be _them_. Who knows what poisonous concoction was brewed up in his honour? Even despite that, he followed through on reading the message before disposing of it, to give him peace of mind.

 

_Auston,_

_Willy told me you’ve been up and down lately because of the emails, but I want you to know you always have a friend in the IT department. My mother would always say a muffin is a great way to start the day, so may this start your day well! Hope it makes you smile._

_Regards,_

_Mitch_

 

He’d been expecting the worse, but this was nowhere close. Just the IT guy, he had to remind himself. Just the IT guy. His stalker wasn’t trying to contact him in person, that he could be relieved with.

He huffed, bringing the note up to his face so that he could read it better before pinning it to the corkboard on the side of his desk where he kept little flashes of hope to keep him going. The muffin was disposed of properly, in his stomach, and the liner thrown into the trash with only five minutes to spare before his shift officially began. He’d booted up the main console, wiped down his screen with cleaner, and ran his fingers on top of the keyboard’s function keys before the egging feeling at the back of his throat had him standing and embarking down the hall.

He rapped on the first door listed in the IT department twice, reluctant to phone because of how backed up the lines were. The staff were always pressing one phone to their cheek using their shoulder, a Bluetooth in one ear as they juggled five callers at once. They lived in little rat-holes and wore greased up glasses that were reminiscent of the early eighties, so he didn’t put it past them to leave him on hold for half an hour.

Mitch opened the door, coffee in one hand, a pair of headphones in the other, and brightened.

“Hey Aus, I’m guessing you just got in,” he said, ushering him in with quirky little abortive movements.

Auston politely declined, making sure there was no obligation to be there longer than necessary.

“Yeah, saw your gift. I wanted to swing by and say thanks before I forgot.”

Mitch blushed the tiniest bit. “Aw, hey, anyone would’ve done it. Just happy you’re doing a bit better now.”

Auston bit at his lip, unsure if he should confirm or deny his statement. He wanted to put on a brave face and walk away with his shoulders hiked high, but he’d felt like he’d run a marathon and was too tired to keep pretending. He inflated almost immediately after.

“Actually, not so much. I was going to come by and ask for your help again, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

Mitch scoffed. “Bother me? Please. It’s a pleasure to have you around. Come in, let’s talk.”

This time, he couldn’t say no, and was quite nearly pushed inside. It did give the curtain of solitude he couldn’t get out in the open, and for that, he was thankful. Mitch also had the nice plush chair he could relax into, giving his back a much-needed break.

“It’s getting out of control,” he confessed. “Every time I turn on my computer or check my phone it’s there, nagging me. Sure, I can trash the emails or go through Facebook and disable public comments or unfriend people but it makes no difference. I hate it. I hate not being able to feel safe, like every bit of myself is scrutinized. And no one listens. They say ‘turn your computer off and go outside’ but it transcends that.”

“Okay, calm down,” Mitch interjected, and only then did he realize he was beginning to hyperventilate, his fears spiralling into a full-blown panic attack. He let Mitch rub circles into the back of his polo, shove a glass of ice-cold water into his hands and pull a chair up beside him to share his space. Only once he was back in stable condition did Mitch begin speaking again.

“Here, how about this. You give me your computer for the night and I can bring it back spic and span, and hopefully with some better defences.”

“What?” He rose up, but Mitch pressed him back down to keep him hunched over.

“I’ve worked with technology for years; nothing surprises me. Had this huge hacking phase in college and I’ve seen almost everything. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to get into these work accounts if you know the right buttons to push. Anyways,” he shook the conversation off, fluffing himself back up, “more often than not, people who use Tor, the browser she’s using to stay anonymous, get found due to their own stupidity. Nothing is foolproof. If she sent files, uh, images, videos, that kind of stuff they can be traced back to an original source.”

“She did send pictures,” Auston mumbled, reaching out to his phone and then deciding otherwise. The things she did send were more than personal--disturbing was more like it. He didn’t want Mitch seeing them.

“See? That’s something. People like her have impulse control. She probably has cookies enabled and if she does, the clear text on HTTP will help me work out how to fight back. It won’t be an instant solution, but it will give you some reassurance.”

It was hard to understand some of his lingoes, but the intention was clear. “You can do that?”

“I can try. I’ll do the same for all your networks, and I can reinforce your social media and help you make a new password that will be harder to crack. Then we can work backwards and secure your professional accounts.”

Auston rubbed at his forehead, the influx of information not particularly hard to handle, but gratuitous. An almost too good to be true end-game. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It is, but if it makes you feel safe, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Please, what can I do for you in return?”

Mitch's head raised itself, as if pulled by a crane operating from above. “Well, tell me if I’m reading this wrong but, maybe you and I could go out for drinks sometime? I’m not sure where you swing but it was just a thought. We can absolutely go as friends but I’d like to get to know you better.”

Auston's stomach dropped. His fingers got cold.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he started, voice ending in a disheartening drawl as he watched the other man’s face fall in rapid succession. The compulsion to comfort Mitch overrode the temptation to run that had been birthed in his stomach. “Not because I don’t like you,” he said, “quite the opposite really. Actually, it’s because the stalker tends to be aggressive to people I spend excess time with.” He hoped his needlessly flapping tongue could dissolve the man’s creased brow.

Thankfully. Mitch bounced back relatively quickly despite that, clasping Auston’s shoulder with enough force to make him wince, his replacement smile withstanding.

“I understand. Thank you for keeping me in your thoughts.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes, despite his best efforts. “Should I have luck in, uh, dispersing if that’s the right word, your stalker, maybe then we could do something.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Auston said, lamely.

If Auston could substitute the platonic friendship for something else, it wouldn’t be entirely detrimental. Mitch had a nicely carved face, a smile that flaunted his gums, and an infectious laugh that made you want to idle by and absorb him. He was probably a gentleman too, if the many efforts to give Auston his frappuccino when he was too late to make the coffee run were any indication. It was nice being wanted by something besides poison point letters.

“Just let me know if you change your mind," Mitch said, shugging the patient records nearby him. "Who wouldn't want to do something nice for their knight in shining armour?”

 

dear aus,

it’s 12:30 in the morning, but I cant sleep. my mother always said its because my brain is so active but its because i keep thinking of you. you help a lot. your so lovely and I know your thinking of me too. thats why wed work so well together. no one else is in your mind like i am. when you were out on that date all I could think about was me in her place. I wonder if youd talk to me like that, and hold me like you did her.

You’re probably very good in bed. _Very_ generous to your partners. I hope you’ll be like that with me too. I’ll admit, I can be a bit eager than most but you should take that as a compliment. You can use me however you want.

love,

anon

 

dear aus,

i saw you with your family this weekend. breyena grew up so fast! i cant believe it, university of waterloo in a couple months. tell her i congratulate her and cant wait to meet her when she gets her study permit

stop ignoring me. i know what youre doing. its not going to work. i’m a nice man aus, dont make me be the bad guy.

love,

anon

 

dear aus,

sometimes i fantasize about our ideal wedding. you’d look good in a suit. but maybe we’ll have to do something with your hair because you already comb it back (though i saw that you did a side part today and it makes you look so hot)

Sometimes, I wish I could just have you all to myself. If I locked you away, then you wouldn’t be so stressed all the time.

Yeah, all to myself. All nice and pretty. I’d be gentle, but you wouldn’t have to. I like it when my hair is pulled.

please dont leave me

love,

anon

 

The first weeks saw little change in the form of harassment, but slowly, achingly slowly, the onflow of messages slowed to a trickle, and eventually stopped altogether. It took a solid week of him living in Mitch’s office space, sprawled out with his gadgets and talkative nature to keep himself company for there to be any progress, but when he’d first got a phone call from an actual living breathing person and not his stalker or some telemarketing company, it was like experiencing heaven on earth. He’d had to cut off most communications in order to protect himself, which meant further isolation from society that he’d never dreaded until he experienced it. Being able to contact people and go out for lunches was something he missed, as was being in stable contact with his family without fear they would be caught in the crossfire.

He had no idea what Mitch did, but whatever it was, it was clearly working well. The stalker or “secret admirer” as they referred to themselves as became something he could put behind him. The threats geared towards him for trying to fight back were all handled by his trusty IT aide, who took the brunt of it and continued smiling.

Being given the luxury of owning his own space and feeling secure in his own relationships also brought on new, not entirely unwanted feelings. Mitch was a cute kid, sweet too. He had no reason to bother himself with going above and beyond to help Auston, but he did. And his sole request had been shot down. Sure, maybe in his best interests, but still shot down.

He’d always done girls--maybe kissed a guy if he was drunk enough--but this might be the change he needed. A break was a step in the right direction, away from creepy stalkers breathing down his neck into something far more healthy that could actually be supported without fail. And it was the least he could do. If it didn’t work out, well, he would’ve paid for lunch and kept his end of the bargain.

Maybe Mitch wouldn’t initially see the offer in a romantic light, but actually inviting him out and playing along with him sure helped things escalate. Hesitant little hand touches, shy smiles, and a booth sequestered in the back of the restaurant and away from prying eyes. A space all to themselves that no one could penetrate. It wasn’t hard to smile and nod--he was funny and sincere--and if Mitch offered to take him out again the next week, then he was fine with making time.

 

Willy had initially been offended that Auston was picking up without his assistance, but coming to terms that the man Auston had been out to lunch with three times in one week was the friendly IT guy made the news easier to swallow.

“Now maybe he’ll actually download games on our work computers,” he said, with a nudge. Auston couldn’t find it in him to argue; Mitch had already gone above and beyond fortifying Auston’s social networks and was now in the habit of leaving little baked goods and sticky notes on Auston’s desk when he would come in early, just to make his boyfriend smile. Auston took it with grace; Mitch been cautious at first to not say or do anything worthwhile when it came to his feelings--Auston had already told him he didn’t want something heavy right now, especially not something that would be just as bad as being stalked--and he respected it with all his heart.

But besides that, it was good. They slotted well together, and Mitch wasn’t high maintenance either. Sure, he could be clingy and stayed over longer than necessary when he was invited over, but he could do his own thing and be his own person. And he clearly had no qualms with picking where they ate lunch, which was why Auston was tagging along to another healthy outing on account of his terrible diet, as Mitch had put it, clearly reminiscing when his eyes had bulged as he counted the many hamburger wrappers in Auston’s trash the week before.

One of Mitch’s many flaws was his forgetful nature, and that extended to his car keys, so Auston was on a detour to pick them up for him while Mitch made his way to the elevator to go down to the parking garage and drive them over. He’d made the trip between his cubicle and Mitch’s office so often that it was automatic to walk the shortcut behind the water coolers and wave hello to the fellow IT workers pacing the halls.

Luckily, they were in plain sight of the door, in stark contrast to the darker tone of the desk, so he didn’t have to burden himself with playing scavenger hunt with office supplies.

Unluckily, his foot made contact with the garbage can underneath the desk as he reached out to grab it and sent the contents sprawling out on the floor in every direction.

“Fuck,” he swore, bending down to get the worst of it scooped into a pile and ready to transport back into the can. That was when a few in particular caught his eye; bunched into balls that were unfolding on their own accord and addressed to _him._

He plucked all of the ones with his name as the subject, and gently pulled the corners back and straightened them out until he could read them.

 

hey aus,

you look really beautiful today in that top, i cant stop looking at you. that and your hair. you got it cut again and it really suits you. ~~shows off a bit less forehead with the fringes.~~ not that you don’t look good enough already. ~~i swear your its hard not to stare your gorgeous~~

 

hey aus,

you got a new car! it looks great. love the silver colour and its a lot easier to park too. im the same way. we think a lot alike. guess that’s what makes us such a good team.

 

hey aus,

 ~~i love you~~ you’re my everything. ~~i hope you know~~

 

There were dozens more that didn’t even make what resembled a first draft, full of scratches and smears that hid the contents. He tried in vain to decipher the worst of it, but before he could make progress the door to the office hit the wall, banging back and shocking him into awareness with a single jolt.

“What’s taking you so long? Did you--oh.” Mitch walked in just as he put the papers down, but what he was doing was obvious. Auston didn’t even try to hide it.

“What are these?” Auston asked, holding up the first of the three scraps of paper he’d retrieved from the trash. Mitch went ghostly pale before a furious crimson broke out on his face almost like a rash.

“Oh. You saw those.” His voice was shaky.

“Yeah.”

“Well you see,” Mitch’s hand rose up to scratch at the back of his head, “it’s a bit cliche but after you came to me about your stalker I kind of developed a bit of a crush? Before that even; I always thought you were cute and I wanted to confess I felt something for you but I didn’t know what to say, so I wrote whatever came to mind hoping you wouldn’t find it creepy. Handwritten letters seemed like the way to go.”

“Oh.”

“But then I realized you had enough on your plate without me bugging you so I decided to throw them away. Found these ones today stashed in my desk and I cleared out the last of them. Sorry I had to freak you out.” He kicked at a half-sharpened pencil with broken lead, one of the many objects scattered from the freak out.

Mitch was all scrunched up like a stress ball; it was hard to not be endeared by it. “I’m not freaked out,” Auston said. “It’s actually kind of cute. You were pining this whole time?”

“No, it’s super embarrassing.” His hands covered his face. Auston steadied him with a hand on the shoulder, using his free hand to tug them away so that he could see Mitch’s eyes.

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s go for lunch. Thai, right?” The relief from the break in conversation was evident, Mitch squinted like he did when he was truly happy and hugged Auston close with his left bicep.

“Of course, my favourite.” He pressed a kiss to Auston’s cheek. “Hey Aus?”

Auston pulled back. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me @cursivecherrypicking on tumblr for more updates!


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